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“My dad worked too much, and my mom worked the scene for social status. They weren’t bad parents overall, and I only had one nanny when I was younger, but when I decided to change my degree and go in a different direction . . . let’s just say they weren’t very supportive and my life plan didn’t go over very well. I was also arrogant and had a chip on my shoulder. That didn’t help my cause.”
“What was your cause?”
“To be anything other than what I was at that time. I had good times, don’t get me wrong, but I had sort of an awakening one day. I realized that the life I was living wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I wasn’t who I wanted to be anymore. So I made up my mind and made changes.”
“And your parents didn’t approve of this new you?”
He comes over and sits down beside me. “You see, my dear Charlie, I am what one in proper society would call ‘a disappointment.’ It’s not that I have any regrets because I don’t. They cut me off when I changed my major, which meant no more school for me. I shoved my independence in their face by doing everything I could to prove the point that I didn’t need their money. The problem was that I went about things the wrong way. They reminded me of all my failings in life, and I reminded them of the shallowness of their lifestyle. We’ve butted heads for years over this.”
“You made a choice in life, and because of that choice, you basically lost your family?” I summarize, now understanding the aloofness between them at the funeral.
He taps me on the nose three times. “Ding, ding, ding.” He lies back, closing his eyes as if the weight of the conversation has exhausted him. “I don’t like the world they live in, and threatening me with money doesn’t do any good. We’re at an impasse of sorts. I find it hard to spend time with my family and most of my old friends, so I don’t.”
He acts strong, but I see it causes him pain deep down. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought this up when he’s been so sweet and brought din—
I feel his hand on mine. “Stop that.”
“What?” I reply, my voice low like his.
“That,” he says, smoothing his thumb over my temple. “I can almost hear the cogs turning in there. Don’t overthink this. I made choices, and I’m good with them. I’m more than good. I’m happy, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I had Grace—”
“But Grace is gone.”
“I have you,” he says, like that’s the most natural response in the world.
And I couldn’t agree more. That response should scare me, or at the very least worry me, that I’m filling some void in his life, but it doesn’t. The void I fill is not one left vacant by his aunt. No. He carries her in his heart. I’m here for different reasons. I’m not sure what those reasons might be, but I like being in his life no matter what they are. “Yes, you do.” I move my hand down to where his are resting in his lap and entwine our fingers. Curling my legs up, I snuggle into his side. “I’m tired, and you stuffed me.”
“You stuffed yourself. I’ve never seen a girl eat so much.”
“Shush it.” And just like that, the heaviness is gone, and we’re back to us again.
Chapter 18
Charlie A
We’ve grown close, Charlie and I. She’s vivacious . . . another word she’s made me use for the first time ever.
Everyone underestimates her, including her boss and even her friend Rachel. They think of her as a wallflower or a bookworm, more the quiet type. Maybe she is with them, but she’s not with me. She’s vivacious. And her spirit is contagious. I’ve found myself unpredictably addicted to her.
So even though I spent this past Thursday evening schooling her on the ins and outs of Manhattan, then beating her at two games of Scrabble, I’m back at her place on Saturday afternoon at two on the dot.
I knock, a knock I use just for her. It goes something like one knock, then two quick ones and another one. As I stand there trying to contain the goofy grin that gives away how happy I am to be here, I hear the same knock from the other side of the door. That does it. I have to smile and punctuate it with a gut chuckle. She’s clever and amusing.
She swings the door open, laughing. I’ll never get enough of that sound.
“You didn’t think I was paying attention, did you?” she asks, her smile giving away her happiness, too.
“Eh.” I feign disinterest. “I knew you were. You’re more observant than others give you credit for.”
